


Dreamscape

by Misericordemika



Category: DC Animated Universe
Genre: Flashpoint (DCU), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 00:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10231856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misericordemika/pseuds/Misericordemika
Summary: Post-Flashpoint: Barry wakes from a nightmare and calls Hal.





	

_In that twisted world, they have never met._

No, they have.

 

It was a sunny afternoon, just as he was about to send off his report to his supervisor when he first saw him. A man whose brows and cheeks bruised purple studied him as he walked past, and flashed a brilliant, innocent smile. He grabbed Barry by the wrist.

 

“Hey buddy, mind lending me some money?”

 

Stunned, Barry stopped, eyebrows raised.

 

The man did not look like the shifty arrestees they usually have at the station. There was some dirt on his leather jacket but was otherwise relatively unscathed. Criminals usually emanated an uncomfortable vibe, but this person seemed to be filled with sunlight.

 

“What’s going on?” Barry asked the bailiff, not pulling his hand away.

 

The officer glanced at him, and then at the man and shrugged. “Hal Jordan. Caught in a brawl at the bar. The owner kicked called the station. Just waiting to get the evidence in order. Word has it he was defending someone else, but rules are rules.”

 

The stranger grinned, his brows nearly lifting into his hairline. “Sorry man. I left my stuff back at the bar, and I just got to Central City. They say people are super nice here.”

 

Barry blinked, exasperation creeping into his eyes. Maybe it’s his face? For some reason, people always liked to ask him for favours, and he could never refuse them. Even the bailiff knew, for the officer was wiggling his eyebrows at him, about to burst out in laughter.

 

“I’m hungry.” The man said, and Barry could almost see the dog tail wagging behind him.

 

He’d never met anyone so…. shameless.

 

Sighing, Barry reached into his wallet and gave him a couple bills.

 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

 

Barry yanked his wrist out of his grasp. “Have to go,” he mumbled, unable to suppress the heat rising to his cheeks as he made his escape.

 

The man’s laughter echoed after him. “I’ll pay you back! Thanks a bunch!”

 

He’d almost forgotten the incident until he saw that face again on T.V.

 

War ravaged on land and on the sea, the stuff of myths and the Trojan War. A perpetual heaviness clung to Central City, in spite of everything operating as normal. Everyone knew this had to do with the survival of the human race, and yet as humans, there was nothing they could do. No matter which side won, innocents would die.  
  
The government prepared for one final assault, and the world hailed their heroes. Amongst the pictures published, just one person caught his attention. Time passed fleetingly; while he remained the forensic scientist of a small police station, the stranger had become a hero burdened with the hopes of mankind.

 

He watched the interviews. The pilot, Hal Jordan, was as he remembered him. An air of confidence clung to him like cologne, his smile oozing with self-assurance as if he was about to embark on the greatest adventure. Or ask a random stranger for money.

 

Barry could not understand how the fear clouding the eyes of others was absent in his. When asked, the pilot said only this: “I’ve always thought there’s something greater out there for me to do – something not for anybody else. I have found it, and so I’m not afraid.”

 

He didn’t know why he went to see him off, along with thousands of others; the hopes and dreams of mankind burdened upon a single man. Countless flowers carpeted the sides of the runway.

 

The shuttle glided past them in a burst of speed and dust, its tail rising like an evening star. It shot straight up, piercing the blanket of clouds and sending ripples across the sky, across their hearts.

 

The mark of Hal Jordan, and of his existence.

 

If… he had asked for his name that afternoon, would their encounter progress further than that fleeting glimpse?

 

Would they have become friends? Would he consistently ask to borrow money? Did he wish for anyone specific to see him off?  
  
Barry wouldn’t know and has no right to know. But he wondered.

 

They’ve never known each other, but subconsciously, perhaps, in some other universe and some other parallel dimension, they do. Maybe they’d be partners, and that should Hal Jordan ever to embark on a mission so dangerous, Barry Allen wouldn’t be far behind.

 

A bitterness welled up within him, misting his eyes.

 

Too bad this world only has one hero.

 

He’s up in the sky on a mission no one else could have undertaken. Maybe he’d save the world; maybe he’d fail. But no matter which end, his name would be recorded into history and passed down in the flow of time. His existence would become a beacon – a persistence in the sea of despair, a courage in the fathom of fear.

 

And Barry could only do what the people around him did: watching their hero off.

 

He stood until the sun has all but disappeared, leaving behind a single golden streak. Would Hal return on the wings of victory? That was his hope, but at the same time, he knew he’d never return.  
  
Exhausted, he returned to that small police station, his own turf.

 

It’s his mother’s birthday.

 

He should not have run out like that. Slumping against the table, he remembered the reservation he made for his mother’s birthday celebration. Once again, he dwindled to an average salaryman. He should not have been so impulsive; it was laughable.

 

He closed his eyes.

  
  
Another lifetime flashed before his eyes.  
  


* * *

 

_Do you not get it, Flash? No matter how fast you run; no matter which timeline you choose, you can never be happy._

 

He dreamt of that suicide mission, the brilliant light exploding on the surface of the sea; waves surged upwards into a ripple of charred matter and scrap metal.

 

The water settled.

 

Nothing remained.

 

Pilot Hal Jordan, with his courage and mankind’s final counterattack, had failed. And even then, the world did not stop moving forward. War continued.

 

Barry started awake, his fingers flying to his ring. The cold metal against his skin anchored him, and he took a long breath. His chair groaned as he jumped up. Blood rushed to his head; it pounded in protest, his vision blurry. 

 

Blinking as he cleared his mind, he glanced at the electronic clock on his table; it’s past midnight, and he’s the only one still in the office.

 

He ran his fingers over his ring, confirming that his uniform is still securely tucked away within.

 

What happened in that other timeline had permanently scarred him; he’s never fully escaped its clutches. He could sense the memories receding, the ultimate ending to conform to the current world he’s living in. The longer he stayed in this world, the more absolute the realignment would be.

 

He could no longer discern whether he’d truly experienced what he had dreamt.

 

Yet, the fact that Hal had sacrificed himself permanently etched itself into his memories. Even without having witnessed the end for himself, the brilliance of the sun that fateful day had seeped into every crevice of his dream.

 

He remembered what Hal had said, that he still had one thing left to do that no one else could – he wanted to rebuke him. _It’s not right_ , he wanted to say. _Your courage, your will, your determination should save a lot more people. If there’s one thing you still needed to do, it’s to become a superhero, the world’s greatest Green Lantern._

 

Bruce had warned him against dwelling on the other timeline. Take it as a dream, he’d suggested. Everything had started over. And one day, other than that letter tucked inside the display case, nothing in this world could prove the existence of what he’d experienced, of what he had done.

 

He dragged his attention back to the pile of paperwork on his desk. The papers had scattered everywhere, his analysis had finally born fruit. Picking up a random sheet, he forced his brain to focus.

 

Even with superpowers, he’s still human. His double life, combined with the stress of the journey in that other timeline, was starting to take its toll. To distract himself, he had been putting more of himself into the world, often staying very late into the night; yet if he were to fall asleep again, he’d become once again trapped in that dream. He needed a breather.

 

 He’s always running; he’s always telling himself to stop, to slow down. He was already late so many times; he’s had people wait for him countless hours. But something within his very life force was goading him on, edging him to run faster.

 

He wanted Hal.

 

Every second was an eternity as the dialling tone beeped. People had always told Barry he’s patient and good-natured, but now he felt a tingling of agitation. He sped from one end of the room to the other, the surroundings suspended in time and loneliness.

 

Alone.

 

His greatest foe since obtaining his super speed. He’d spent countless times of his life fighting it, and yet it never leaves.

 

The dialling tone stopped.

 

“Hey, missed me?”

 

Amidst Hal’s light tone, Barry picked up muffled sounds of someone screeching, a few explosions, and something falling. He could almost picture the chaos on the other end, tens of light years away. If this had been any other time, he’d have felt embarrassed for bothering Hal at work, ignore his flirtatious tone, and hang up. But today, he wanted to indulge himself.

 

“You seem busy.”

 

“If you don’t mind waiting –” Another ringing crash drowned out Hal’s voice. And was that a fist landing on something? “ – I am almost done here. I’m supposed to be on vacation! I was back on Earth, about to kiss my bed goodnight. It’s rare to have you call – and I’d only complain a tiny bit if you woke me up. But now. I’m on duty, Bar.”

 

“What a coincidence. Me too.” Barry glanced out the window at the silent street below. The entire city was asleep, but for him and the Green Lantern still hard at work. “I dreamed of “you” again.”

 

Other than delivering the letter to Bruce, his other priority had been to confirm that Hal was still lively and well at some corner of the universe. He’d stayed over at Coast City that night, Hal having a rare day on Earth. They’d shared a pillow as Barry recounted his encounters in the other timeline. Hal didn’t seem entirely interested, yawning and bored until he said Hal had died without ever becoming Green Lantern.

 

Hal had bolted up in bed.

 

“I can’t believe there’s any universe where I wouldn’t become GL,” he’d said.

 

Barry silently watched him under the cover of darkness. “I can’t either,” he said, a moment later.

 

They haven’t broached the subject again, not that night of any night after. Hal didn’t ask, and so Barry didn’t say. It was as if it had never existed, a forgotten piece of history in a twisted moment in time.

 

It wasn’t long before Hal once again left the Earth, and Barry continued his Hal-less life. But since then, that dream plagued him, night after night.

 

On the other side of the line, Hal had fallen silent.

 

An awkwardness settled between them. Barry wasn’t even sure why he’d called; maybe he just wanted to confirm, once again, that Hal was alive. He was not turned to dust in the middle of the ocean, his existence completed wiped clean from this Earth.

 

“Hey buddy, I’m kinda busy right now…. Maybe talk to you later?” Hal said, his voice light as he steered the subject away.

 

The chaos seemed to have settled, and Barry knew there were countless negotiations required to be mediated by the Green Lanterns.

 

“Alright, bye.” Barry put his cell face down on the table. Unlike Barry, Hal had never let excessive emotions become his shackles – he has too much to do; he did not want to dwell extra time and energy on such things that may hinder his process. Doing and not thinking was what Hal had always done.

 

Barry slumped back into his chair to get back to work; the piles of paper included files from outside Central City as well. He tapped into the speed force and cheated, clearing the desk within seconds. But to Barry, each second drawled out into hours. When was done, he refiled them. And again. He would not allow himself time to think again. As such, he became trapped between two worlds, and no speed could escape this nightmare.

 

A brilliant green light filtered through the window, illuminating the office in a gentle sheen. Startled, Barry raised his head and turned.

 

Green Lantern floated outside the glass, his smile brighter than his light as he tapped on the glass. In that split second, Barry thought he was dreaming.

 

Hal had come, from tens of light years away, to tap on his window.

 

It didn’t seem real; at the same time, it’s not something Hal wouldn’t do. Neither of them was exactly the romantic sort, the kind to expect their partners to bring flowers and nighttime serenades; but what Hal was doing now touched the deepest part of him. It was the oldest trick in the book, and yet it shattered him.

 

Just because Hal doesn’t do it often didn’t mean he didn’t know how. And for Barry, he’d learn.

 

Green Lantern slipped through the window, removing his uniform as soon as his feet touched the floor. His usual leather jacket and his tousled hair still touched with a hint of coolness that could only be from space. Barry couldn’t resist pushing back that tuft of brown hair from Hal’s forehead.

 

“I thought you’d bring me a snack.”

 

Hal grinned.  He brought his right arm from behind his back, revealing the brown paper bag of steaming hamburgers.

 

“I’m here, Barry,” he said, watching him as if fearing he’d miss a single change of expression.

 

Barry’s face flushed crimson. He was never really bothered by Hal’s dismissal of the other timeline. After all, Hal wasn’t there to experience what he’d experience. But now he was assured of the fact that Hal would not like there to be any distance between them. Should Barry stray once more, he’d be here to pull him back. Maybe he didn’t care whether the other Hal Jordan became Green Lantern, but he did care what Barry did.

 

And so he came, standing in front of Barry just to remind him that this here, where he stood, was the Earth to which they belonged.

 

Barry clutched him close, breathing in the feel of distant galaxies clinging onto the leather jacket.

 

He’s finally awake.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Halbarry Fanbook, available [here](http://www.lulu.com/shop/a-halbarry-fanbook/ten-thousand-leagues-above-you/paperback/product-22976632.html) .


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